Romantic Dinner, Wade Wilson Edition
by ThanksIllPass
Summary: I got a prompt on tumblr for Wade trying really hard to make a romantic dinner for Peter, so here it is :)


Peter opened the door to his apartment and automatically reached for the light switch. He ignored his spidey-sense tingling, because he knew that Wade was home. Maybe his guns were all over the floor. What's the worst that could happen when he'll turn on the lights, right? When it gave him a shock upon touching he jerked his hand away and swore under his breath. He looked around in the darkness and finally noticed a dim light in the kitchen.

"Wade? You in the kitchen?"

"Yup, Petey, come on in!" Wade called, sounding oddly excited. "Watch out, though, I had to tear out all the light switches!"

"You had to… WHAT?"

When Peter entered the kitchen, he froze, speechless. The whole space was filled with candles, literally. Peter had nowhere to put his feet. He sighed. Wade looked up to him from the stove and grinned. Peter couldn't fight back a smile; a happy Wade made a happy Peter.

"Uh, Wade, what's this?"

"It's a romantic dinner, baby boy! Can't you tell?"

Peter carefully stepped around the candles and sighed with relief when he finally reached the chair. Thank heaven's for spider-powers.

"Why the candles?"

"This one website said candles are romantic. The more the better, right?"

"Wrong. But I think we're safe. For now."

He put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands. That's when the flower vase came into his line of vision. It was filled with grass. Peter groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"Grass, Wade? Really?"

"Well the website recommended flowers, but I only remembered, like, ten minutes ago. So I grabbed some grass from your neighbor's balcony. Her cat tried to fight me for it, but don't worry! I am, after all, your knight in shining spandex.

Peter thunk his head down on the table, and Wade laughed at his own terrible joke. He didn't even wear spandex. What the hell was he even doing on that stove? Peter lifted his head and moved his hands to smooth out the tablecloth. That's when he noticed a familiar shield.

"Wade? Is that… Are these my Captain America sheets?"

"Yeah. The website said to use a fancy tablecloth, but I couldn't find any."

"Wade, I swear to god! One. Single. Stain. I'm not joking."

Peter tried not to be pissy but seriously, there were bounds. And Wade crossed, like, eighty of them already. Wade simply hummed, but his shoulders sagged a little. Peter sighed.

"Just… be careful with them, okay?"

"No problem, Petey! Will do!"

Peter could hear faked enthusiasm in his voice. Great. If there was something Peter excelled at, it was bringing Wade down. But it has been a really long day. And it's not like he couldn't see that Wade was trying. He was just tired and Wade… Well, Wade's methods were always special. Part of his charm. Peter forced a smile and asked Wade what he was making.

"It's a surprise! The we-"

"The website said surprises were romantic, yeah… Anything I can help with?"

Wade finally turned around and looked at Peter. He was smiling, but his eyes were a bit sad. Resigned. Peter honestly wanted to cry. Was he going around wearing a giant sign saying "Wade, you are going to fail, don't even try," because that's how he felt sometimes. But Wade finally nodded, regaining some of his previous enthusiasm, and grinned.

"You can get the silvers?"

Peter smiled and carefully walked over to the drawer. That's when it hit him. His hand froze in the air and he slowly turned his head toward Wade.

"Wade. Wade, we don't have any silvers."

"Yeah I know, I had to steal them."

Peter's knees gave out underneath him. He clutched the drawer and tried to stay upright.

"Wade, I _am_ going to kill you, I- I don't even know what to say right now, Jesus-"

"Relax, Peter, I'm going on a job after dinner, I will pay for them, okay, I will, I'm sorry there were no poor suckers to kill yesterday, it's not like I-"

Peter's already thin patience finally snapped. Oh no, he didn't! They agreed, no talking about Wade's _fucking job_, for Christ's sake, they agreed! As if this wasn't difficult enough without thinking about what Wade actually did for a living! His head hurt. He gritted his teeth and looked straight at Wade.

"Did the goddamned _website_ tell you that talking about _killing_ people is _not_ _romantic_?! We agreed, you asshole, how could you even-"

"Christ, Peter, don't yell at me, God, _I am trying!_"

The silence that fell was nearly deafening. Peter swallowed and looked down on the candle covered floor. Yes, the floor was good, perfect even! The floor was safe. Peter wasn't ready to see what Wade's face looked like. He had to be a bigger man here, he had to fix it. Wade _was_ trying. And to be perfectly honest, Peter wasn't, as of lately. Not really. And it sucked to realize, s_o_ bad…

"Please, Wade, I'm sorry, please, just, forget I said anything, please, let's just, eat a romantic dinner like you planned, okay, please, don't be, just, please?"

He finally dared to look at Wade and pleaded with his eyes. Wade sighed and nodded. Peter reached for him desperately, because no, this wouldn't do, he needed to be sure Wade was okay. Wade grabbed his hand and ran his thumb across Peter's knuckles and then lifted it to his lips, kissed it and smiled. Peter let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and took out the silvers. Wade got back to the stove.

"I'm so hungry," Peter confessed as he sat back down.

"It's almost ready. It's going to be awesome, trust me."

"I do."

Just as he said it, Peter realized how much he meant it. He trusted Wade with his life. He trusted that Wade will always have his back, that he will never leave him, that he will never stop loving him. Which was kind of ridiculous because nothing Wade did gave base for such trust. He was irresponsible, his system of values was off the charts, he was a _mercenary_, for God's sake! You do not trust mercenaries. And especially not mercenaries like Wade Wilson. And yet, Peter trusted Wade more than he ever trusted anybody. And it was really scary. And also really amazing.

"I trust you," he said softly, and Wade chuckled, excited again.

Peter felt himself smile. No matter how much of a disaster this evening has been, Wade did this all for him, and when Peter thought about it, it was pretty romantic. Wade Wilson edition. His smile slipped from his face when Wade finally put his plate before him. He couldn't identify the content of the plate if his life depended on it. Right. He totally forgot Wade only really knew how to make pancakes. It looked disgusting, to be honest. But then again, so did Wade, on the first glance. Peter learned not to judge the book by the cover by now. He smiled at Wade and Wade beamed. Suddenly they both sniffed the air.

"It smells burnt, Wade."

"It's not supposed to."

"Well _something's _burning."

Wade froze in his seat. His eyes went impossible wide, without doubt with the realization that Peter hasn't been graced with yet.

"Uh, Petey, baby boy, please don't be mad, just, uh, Peter, you better sit down-"

"I _am_ sitting, Wade. What the he-"

His sheets. His Captain America sheets. Peter look down and- He couldn't even look at this. He covered his face with his hands.

"Petey? Oh my god, did I finally break you? Why are you shaking? Do you have Parkinson and forgot to tell me? Uh, no, it's Alzheimer when you forget shit, I get them mixed up- Peter?"

Wade grabbed Peter hands and took them off his face. Peter's eyes were filled with tears, and his bottom lip was red from biting it. He was shaking; with laughter. When Wade realized it, he sighed with relief and got down to putting out the fire methodically. And Peter laughed, and laughed, because it was all ridiculous, and his favorite sheets were currently burning, and he loved Wade Wilson.

"I finally broke him."


End file.
